Author: Lucinda (with assistance from Speedbump1)
Rated T for teen due to innuendo and disturbing imagery
Disclaimer: Neither myself nor Speedbump1 hold any legal rights to any character from the Harry Potter novels or movies. In this case, ‘ether’ would be the medieval/alchemical term used to refer to the air or the heavens – and also not a term that is mine or Speedbump1’s. We only have claim to JK Howling and his niece. I am not aware of any specific fanfic writer using the pen-name JK Howling, and if there is such an author, my apologies. The JK Howling seen in the following work is a creation of my/our demented imaginings, as is the fangirl niece. Yes, the fangirl gets some names wrong - that is deliberate.
Notes: pure humor, and perhaps a bit of mocking. Set post Tri-wizard tournament.
The dark wizard Voldemort, the most feared evil wizard that Britain had produced in the last century, sat in a chair in Malfoy Manor, watching several of his Death Eaters. Having performed numerous obscure rituals to increase his power, Voldemort was feared, and no longer looked quite human, especially after his rebirthing ritual. Ordinary magicals feared him for the mysterious powers that he was rumored to possess, as well as the more confirmed sheer power and brutal minions.
Voldemort was smiling.
“My Lord? May we inquire as to what has pleased you?” one of the Death Eaters asked.
“I have become aware of a rather peculiar branch of magic, practiced by certain individuals with strange and complex equipment. I have dispatched several of my minions to capture one such practitioner and bring him to me. Once he is properly persuaded to use his abilities as I see fit, our conquest of magical Britain will be assured,” Voldemort hissed.
“You don’t understand what you’ve done! There are dangers… you must let me go before it’s too late!” A smaller man in muggle style clothing was being held between the masked forms of Crabbe and Goyle. He looked rather unhappy, but lacked bruises, bleeding injuries, or any signs of spell-burns.
“No, it is you who do not understand, JK Howling! My minions have captured you, and you will remain in the dungeons until you will write the ending that I demand!” Voldemort hissed at the man.
“They didn’t let me turn off the computer! It’s still logged on, the password won’t even activate for another twenty minutes… you don’t understand the danger!” He shivered, before adding in a whisper, “My niece is visiting today.”
“How touching. Take him to the dungeon,” Voldemort waved a hand.
Crabbe and Goyle bowed and retreated, the small form of the man identified as JK Howling dangling between them. Their captive’s feet didn’t even touch the ground as they carried him away from the room where Voldemort was holding court and towards the dungeon. JK Howling squirmed around to face Voldemort, calling “Release me before it’s too late! You’ll be sorry that you’ve kidnapped me! Very sorry!”
Voldemort and the remaining Death Eaters laughed at his shouts.
“Stone walls, cells with iron bars with a hint of dampness and rust… Someone has certainly gone all out for a classic dungeon,” JK Howling mused.
“Malfoy,” Offered the figure on the left. “Inherited, and taught by his Da.”
“I suppose he comes from a family with very firm traditional views, and a long-established dislike of non-magicals?”
“Yeah.” The figure on the right paused, and then observed, “You’re being a good sport about this. Not fighting or making us thump you at all.”
“I don’t care for being thumped, and either one of you is twice my size, but the both of you together? The whole thing wasn’t a question of would I be going with you, but if I’d be hurt first. I just wish that you’d let me secure the computer first. I shudder at the possible consequences…” he sighed. “I suppose I’m supposed to be shut into a cell? May I at least have a chair and something to write with?”
“Guess so. No harm in having a chair…” The one on the left paused. “You don’t have a wand, do you?”
“I have a pencil. It lets me write, but I do not have a wand like what you have – you bought that from Ollivander, yes?”
“Yeah.” With slow nods, Crabbe and Goyle left JK Howling with his ankle chained to a rather plain wooden chair, with a long roll of parchment and his pencil.
“He’s being a good sport about this, isn’t he?” one of them asked the other.
“Yeah… makes me wonder just what we’re missing.”
“Probably a lot.”
That was when everyone in Malfoy Manor heard a strange, squeaky voice in the ether. In tone it reminded them of an excited House Elf. ‘ohhh, I found the computer! And it’s even turned on and logged on and that means I can play with it! Ooooo, there’s a fanfic… that means I can write now! Let’s see who I can play with…’
“Did anyone else hear a strange squeaking in the ether?” demanded Bellatrix LeStrange. “Perhaps My Lord is performing rituals again?”
“Some inane babbling. Surely nothing of any consequence,” dismissed her husband, Rodolphus LeStrange.
“No… that voice. The presence in the ether is similar to the vibrations that enabled me to locate JK Howling,” Voldemort murmured. “What will this mean? And what is a com-pew-ter?”
“Perhaps some sort of… muggle device, My Lord?” suggested Lucius Malfoy. ‘Hey, it’s Luscious Malfoy! He has such pretty hair.’
“That’s Lucius Malfoy – it’s a Latin name,” said wizard looked affronted, and then touched his long blond hair, which was rather pretty. “And thank you, I take very good care of my hair.” ‘Luscious Malfoy with his pretty hair… He needs more romance in his life. What can I do about that?’
Looking rather alarmed, Lucius objected, “I am married to Narcissa! I have more than enough romance in my life, thank you very much. And my name is Lucius. Not luscious.” ‘With pretty hair like that, he could almost pass for a girl. That makes him a pretty-boy, so let’s see about giving him a perfect boyfriend!’
the voice paused, and then giggled, ‘I know! With that voice… like chocolate… oh yes, yummy voiced Snape with Luscious of the pretty hair! Perfect!'
Lucius made a choking noise before glancing towards Voldemort, “My Lord! This squeaky voice… it babbles insanity! How do we silence it?”
Meanwhile, In Hogwarts, Severus Snape felt a strange chill pass along his spine. With a frown, he moved to make certain that no students had interfered with the school’s ingredient cupboards, and that no Weasleys or Longbottoms were near any cauldrons. Finding nothing to explain his sudden unease, he shook his head, muttering. “Perhaps it isn’t a student into my potions supplies. Yet there is something unfortunate afoot… No doubt some foolish Gryffindor scheme. Perhaps Potter is at work…”
“You worry too much,” Voldemort dismissed Malfoy’s concerns with a wave of his hand. Truthfully, he was finding the worried and disturbed looks on the man’s face quite amusing.
“My Lord? Are the House-Elves misbehaving again?” Bellatrix looked around the room, one hand on her wand. ‘Look, it’s Belli… Bells… Bella! Not Bella Swan, the other one… Now which of the LeStranges was she married to?’
“The squeaky voice is talking about me?” Bellatrix frowned. “Why is that squeaky voice talking about me?” ‘Oh, his name started with an R. They both have such silly names…’
The LeStrange brothers had just walked into the room, and did not expect to hear squeaky voices in the ether. One opened his mouth, prepared to ask a question, but closed his mouth without saying a word as he noticed the look of amusement on the face of the Dark Lord. ‘Wait, I could just say that they share her! It sounds naughty and dark and like a weird old fashioned wizard thing to do… And that way there’s hot man-love going on! I bet that would go over well with the group.’
“What? What is this hot man-love that the voice blathers about?” demanded Rodolphus LeStrange.
Rabastan just started to chuckle, his eyes taking on an unfocused look.
“I think not!” Bellatrix turned to face the pair of them, the raw fury pouring off her in waves. “Rabastan, crucio! Rodolphus, stupify.” ‘And if I’m adding more romance… I don’t know why he wasn’t throwing some of that in, romance and shipping is the best! He’s too busy dealing with politics and fighting and people looking through boring old books. Maybe Drakey’s bodyguards are totally into each other? Or maybe they’re guarding him because they really really like him in a more than friends kind of way… ohh, the whole secret love thing is soooo neat! But to keep things tense, he can’t be into them. There’s the whole Romeo and Juliet thing if he’s in love with Jenny Weasley. Their families hate each other, the blond and the red hair would look so pretty together….’
In Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy felt a sudden chill down his spine. He frowned and pulled his robes – specially charmed for comfort – closer to his body. Crabbe and Goyle were attempting to study, and he was safe in the Slytherin common room. What could possibly be wrong?
In the room where Voldemort was seated, Lucius Malfoy was gaping in a rather fish-like manner. “My son… and a Weasley? Absolutely not!”
“Well, the family is rather… a rather large pack of blood-traitors and muggle-loving fools,” commented another Death Eater. “But there are certainly worse options out there.”
“I can’t imagine anything worse,” Lucius Malfoy sniffed. ‘Wait, there’s even more tension if instead of being in love with Jenny Weasley, Drakey could be in love with Hermie… Mermio… Her-only…. Granger! Why does she have to have such a difficult name anyhow?’
Goyle Senior frowned. “Difficult name, in class with our boys… isn’t that the Gryffindor mud-blood that Draco’s always complaining about?”
“A mud-blood? No, no, no! That’s even worse than a Weasley!” Lucius scowled, “Where is that wretched squeaky voice coming from?”
Crabbe Senior turned and began walking back to the dungeon. There had never been any squeaky voices in the air before the Dark Lord had them bring in that man, the one he’d called JK Howling. And JK Howling had talked about bad things happening if they kept him. Maybe he’d known about the squeaky voice? Maybe he could make it stop before it did more than talk about bad things involving his son?
In Hogwarts, Draco felt that strange chill pass over him again. As he was still in the Slytherin common room, he dismissed it as unimportant. Also in Hogwarts, Hermione Granger felt an odd and troublesome stirring. Attempting to determine the cause, her mind jumped to what she felt was the only possible answer – someone was tripping the protective charms that she’d placed on her library-trunk. She immediately jumped to her feet and darted off to ensure the protection of her precious books. ‘Of course, The Books had her eventually getting together with Ron. Maybe I could stay with that plan… but he was soooo cute with Lavender! How could I break up Lav-Lav and Won-Won?’
Some of the Death Eaters began glancing at each other, now utterly baffled by the sound of the squeaky voice, never mind that they still did not know how or why they were hearing it to begin with. Voldemort was still listening with an amused smirk, one hand idly stroking Nagini.
Crabbe walked down the central corridor of the dungeon, until he came to the cell where they’d locked JK Howling. The man was still in the chair, chain still locked around his ankle, busily scrawling over the paper like a student with an essay due next class. He felt slightly better that the man who might have answers wasn’t trying to get away before he could talk. “Do you hear that voice?”
“My niece. I’m sad to say that she’s a fourteen year old fangirl. I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but…” he sighed. “Teenage girls didn’t make sense to me when I was a teenager, and they still don’t. Never mind her obsession with those Twilight books and that Edward Cullen character… I don’t think anyone over twenty understands that mess.”
“This is what you meant when you said there’d be problems? That we’d be sorry?” Crabbe asked.
“Yes, and she’s only getting started.” JK Howling’s voice was grim.
“It can get worse?”
“You have no idea.” ‘Wait a minute. Even if I am helping everyone find their true love, I can’t just forget about the whole Volde-war thing. Otherwise it’ll just get in the way of everybody falling in love and living happily ever after.’
Lucius Malfoy was muttering to himself and pacing back and forth, “No son of mine shall get himself involved with a Weasley. I won’t have it. Not even the girl Weasley. Though a mud-blood would be even worse than a Weasley... curse that squeaky voice and her vile suggestions!”
Bellatrix was glaring at her brother-in-law, her wand sparking as she snarled, “There will be no sharing.” Turning to her husband, she hissed, “And you do not want to know about man-love.” ‘Wait, the leaders of the whole mess are Voldie and Albus of the too many names! If they stopped fighting, the whole thing would be over, and people could get on with love and babies and happy things!’
“Well Dumbledore does have a lot of names,” muttered Goyle Senior.
“Things are not that simple, even if the voice has correctly identified the leaders while mangling their names in despicable ways,” another Death Eater glanced at His Lord in hopes that he had not decided to take offence to being called ‘Voldie’. ‘Oooh, I just had an idea! She said that Albus was gay, so he likes the man-love. What if… what if….’
“I’m starting to think I know where that voice is heading with the man-love idea, and I don’t like it.” Rodolphus muttered. 'What if the whole war started because of a lover’s quarrel between Albus and Voldie?’
Every Death Eater in the room froze. On his chair, Voldemort stopped smirking, his jaw dropping as he began to look around the room for that insolent voice that dared utter such horrible words. He was not only violently opposed to such things, but the idea made him feel rather nauseous – didn’t this voice know that Albus Dumbledore was sixty or seventy years older than him, one of his teachers, and that he – Voldemort, Dark Lord and powerful wizard – was not interested in the man-love? ‘And when they get back together and go back to snuggling instead of casting spells at each other, the fighting can stop! And there can be lots of marriages, and babies… oh, and maybe as a sign of peace and harmony and everybody being happy and not fighting any more, there can be marriages between Voldie’s people and Albus’s people? Ooooo, if I take things that way, maybe I could put Drakey with Harry Potter, and wouldn’t they look so pretty together?’
In Hogwarts, Harry Potter recognized the feeling of Impending Doom. He began muttering spells to ensure that the snack in front of him wasn’t poisoned or otherwise potioned, no enemies were sneaking in the room hidden, and placed a few defensive spells on his person. “Isn’t it a bit early in the year for this? Well, I suppose it was inevitable that someone would try to get things out of the way early. Time for some of that constant vigilance stuff”
Lucius Malfoy could only gape wordlessly. That morning, he’d been certain the worst possible match for his son would be a blood-traitor girl, like that Weasley daughter. A few minutes ago, the squeaky voice had suggested the unthinkable – a mud-blood! Now… now the voice had found something even more horrible and unimaginable to utter…
In the Malfoy Manor dungeons, Crabbe looked at JK Howling. “Is it too late to stop her?”
“Not if I were to be freed from the dungeon and returned home within the next five minutes.” ‘That would just solve everything! But… but if Voldie and Albie get back together, won’t that make Nagini jealous? I mean, just how close are they anyhow?’
Voldemort began sputtering, words completely failing him in his outrage. Nagini looked at him, hissing – If you don’t silence that wretched voice that speaks such disgusting things, we shall see just how immune to my poison you truly are. While you look much better now, you are still far from what I would look for in a mate.
Bellatrix saw the way that Her Lord was sputtering, and gave what she felt was the only possible translation. “Bring back the author! Bring him here at once!”
“He said he could stop her if we got him back to his house fast,” Crabbe Senior spoke, stepping into the room towing JK Howling.
“You can stop the squeaky voice? And make certain that none of the vile things that she has been uttering… that none of it comes to pass?” Lucius Malfoy demanded.
“Nothing except for the fact that Dumbledore does have an awful lot of names, Nagini is a snake, and you have disturbingly pretty hair. At least, I can prevent it if I get back to my home right now,” JK Howling emphasized the last words.
“A reasonable list of things to keep,” murmured another Death Eater.
“And… if she agrees, could I borrow Bellatrix LeStrange for the afternoon?” JK Howling glanced at the witch, and then at Voldemort before raising his hands in a ‘don’t hurt me’ gesture. “I’ve been trying to get my niece to stop such things, but I haven’t been able to get through to her. I was hoping that Bellatrix with her hopefully better understanding of the female mind might have better luck.”
“You want me to explain the error of her ways to the squeaky voice?” Bellatrix began to smile, and turned to face Her Lord. “Please my Lord, please permit me to educate the wretched voice on her wrongful ways. She must learn not to give thought, let alone squeaky voice, to such vile things!”
“I don’t want her killed,” JK Howling cautioned. “She can’t learn from the lesson if she’s dead or tortured into unresponsive insanity.”
“I can be more creative than that,” Bellatrix promised.
“Go, and stop that voice from… from those horrible things.” Voldemort commanded.
“Hurry.” Suggested Goyle Senior.
Bellatrix, Crabbe Senior, and JK Howling vanished with a loud pop. ‘and once Volde and Albie are back with the… oh, hi Uncle Jake! I found your computer and…’
‘Step away from the computer now. You know that you aren’t supposed to be messing with it.’
‘But I was going to make things better! With more romance, and pretty boys getting together and…’
‘About that romance. What has your mother told you about meddling with people’s love-lives? It’s obvious that you haven’t been listening. This woman has a few words for you about that. And I’ve told you that pairing people up just because you think they’re pretty-boys is a sin unto writing.’
‘But that makes no sense! Nobody says unto anymore, and…’
Bellatrix’s voice rang through the ether, followed by a short and squeaky scream. ‘You will listen to me, girl…’
“Now, perhaps we shall devise a new plan to gain power over magical Britain…” Voldemort turned to his followers.
The sounds faded from the ether, and the assembled dark wizards and snake did their best to forget the horrors of that morning.
End Squeaky Voice in the Ether.